


Invisible

by AliceMalefoy



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 1940's Bucky, Bar, Brooklyn, F/M, Nurse - Freeform, PTSD, Pre-War, War, disabled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 07:44:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7749181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceMalefoy/pseuds/AliceMalefoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Buchanan Barnes went to war and got captured by the enemy. Steven Grant Rogers became Captain Amerian to save his childhood best friend and that's what he did. But after going through hell, could Bucky really resume his life and live the way he used to before all of this happened? Steve hopes so, therefore he brings him back to Bucky's favorite bar to go lady-hunting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invisible

“I'm invisible!” Bucky exclaimed, defeated after the girl left.   
For the second time tonight a pretty girl came up to Steve and him and started cooing and giggling at Steve's every word all the while looking at him like he was the most delicious eye candy she had every laid her eyes on. It was simply infuriating to see the roles swapped like that!  
“I'm turning into you, it's like a horrible nightmare!” He realized the irony of the situation.   
That's how Steve must have felt the whole time – every time Bucky charmed a girl and he was left alone at the bar, not even drinking more than one beer because he had such a low tolerance for alcohol. Now, only God knows if he even could get drunk anymore with his super solider serum filled blood. And the guy had the audacity to enjoy himself right now!  
“Don't take it so hard,” Steve chuckled, patting Bucky's shoulder in a comforting way. Although the fact that he used one of Bucky's very own lines against him didn't go unnoticed, and Bucky's jaw clenched slightly at that. Fair game, he thought, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe she's got a friend,” Steve added before putting his glass down and following the cute girl.   
Without so much as a glance back, Steve had left him alone. So that was what it felt like being ditched for a girl? Bucky didn't know for how long he stayed at the bar, sitting on the same stool and drinking beers. Not even beers, actually, he hadn't even finished his first one when Steve suddenly came back, his hand slamming onto his friend's shoulder – Bucky winced and almost spilled some of his beer from the shock. Steve had yet to get used to his own strength.   
“Miss me already?” Bucky teased him.  
“Two beers please,” Steve ordered and the barman nodded. “I'm getting her and I drinks – isn't that your move on girls? So you have an excuse to sit at their table?”  
Bucky groaned, “That's a low blow using my moves, punk.”  
“It's every guy's move, jerk,” Steve smiled and took the beers.  
“Excuse me,” a soft voice from behind Bucky spoke. “Are you-”  
“Yes!” Bucky exclaimed and turned around. “Yes, he's Captain America,” he said, rolling his eyes at that and snickering, “but I think you're a little late, doll, he's already got his eyes on the blond over there-” Bucky pointed at the table and frowned when he saw Steve sitting with her.   
Bucky turned around to check and his friend was indeed, gone. Feeling stupid for his small outburst, he flushed red and spun on his stool again to face the girl, whose expression had turned into a mischievous one. One of her neatly groomed eyebrows had shot up and the left corner of her mouth twitched upwards as he realized his mistake.  
“Thank you for enlightening me, but I have perfectly functioning eyes, I know who your friend is,” she started, her smirk growing wider.   
She was a stunning brunette with a determined glimmer in her eyes, her lean arms bare, hands on her hips. Her dress emphasized her thin waist and reached under her knees. Even with the heels she wore, she was a head shorter than him, but Bucky still thought she was taller than most girls he had talked to before. There was a little something in her demeanor that made her seem bigger than she was – like an actress owning the stage. Her aura was fantastic.  
“I'm sorry, ma'ame,” he quickly apologized for his rude behavior.  
She brushed him off with a wave of the hand, showing him it to forgotten. He realized she didn't correct him and tell him to call her 'Miss' but when he glanced down at her hand he didn't spot any ring on her finger.  
“So, are you James Barnes?”  
The young man was taken aback by that – how did she know who he was? And furthermore, why would that celestial creature be looking for him? Surely he must have looked rather poorly at this exact moment. He just got back from being captured by the enemy and he lacked sleep and his cheeks were a bit hollow from the little food her had ingested the last few weeks. War did that to you. But she seemed to look past that and simply smiled politely, awaiting his answer.  
“I- ugh yes, that's my name.”   
Never before had he struggled to find his words when speaking to a girl. It was an extremely awkward and unpleasant situation for him, but rather refreshing too.   
“Wonderful!” She cheerfully exclaimed, taking the seat next to his own. Still momentarily frozen, Bucky didn't react immediately. This was not how things happened usually, he was not the one being hit on, he was the one in control. She seemed to grow impatient and annoyed by his lack of response. “James Barnes, will you buy me a drink, or do I have to beg?”  
That had the immediate effect to wake Bucky from his trance and he gestured the barman to bring the lady a drink. She had stung his manhood with that last sentence. He then faced her again, this time with a large smile.  
“Just, call me Bucky, please.”  
“Bucky,” she said, tasting the sound of it. “Has a nice ring to it,” she decided. “You look like you could use some company,” she then pointed out.  
“I had no idea I looked that much of a mess,” he huffed, raising his beer to her when the barman brought her her own drink. Her bottle met his and they each drank a sip of beer. “How do you know who I am?” He questioned.  
A bright smile blossomed on her face, and Bucky could swear the room looked far less aphotic suddenly. At this moment he decided he wanted to hear her laugh and not just see her smile. She looked as though he just asked her the silliest question.  
“Really?” Her nose scrunched up a little. “Every girl in this bar knows who you are,” she said. “Mainly because you're a irredeemable heartthrob who's already flirted with half of them.” A cheeky smile tugged at her lips, as if she tried to remain serious but couldn't.   
“Half of them?” He asked, his brows knitting together. “You're giving me too much credit...” he said in false humility, obviously asking for her name.  
“(Y/N),” she smiled, glad he finally recovered from the shock of her hitting on him and asked for her name.   
She figured she was only one among several girls' names he had to remember for a night and would later on forget, but she liked the idea of having an inconsequential little flirt with the infamous Bucky Barnes, unequaled charmed and smooth-talked of Brooklyn. When he opened his mouth, she knew that he was about to serve her a made-up line, and she cut him off before he got the chance to to so.  
“If you're about to tell me that it's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl, I suggest you keep your mouth shut,” she quickly told him, enjoying the look of utter bedazzlement on his handsome face. “I didn't come and talk to you to be served the same over-used pick-up lines as all the others girls. Obviously you don't need them since I'm the one who came to you, so why not be yourself for once?”  
“Who are you?” Bucky asked, barely believing what he heard.   
“A girl who doesn't take no bullshit from boys – apparently it was high time you meet one of those,” she chuckled, bringing her beer to her lips and chugging down some of it. At this sight, Bucky suddenly envied this bottle, and he felt stupid for it.   
“You certainly are something, m'lady,” he replied, in awe of her. “But if I may, I'd like to say that all smooth-talking aside, I still think you are the most dazzling view in all of Brooklyn.”  
Her mouth fell agape and her free hand clutched at her heart, wrinkling a bit the top of her dress.  
“Oh, be still my beating heart!” She exclaimed in mocking tone – yet a genuine smile adorned her red painted lips.   
“How come I've never seen you before? Certainly I would remember you!” He questioned, not believing that such a rare woman would have gone unnoticed by him – or any man.   
She was loud and bright and spoke her mind – she was the kind of woman whose name you could never forget, because her clear laughter still filled your ears even years after last hearing it. She was the kind of woman whose smile went from ear to ear because she didn't believe in smiling for the sole sake of being polite because it made her feel hypocrite for doing so. She was that kind of rare woman you wanted to show off and have at your arm, and who you know would get along with all of your friends and family.   
“Hey!” She interjected. “Don't fall asleep on me!”  
Bucky realized he had been lost in his thoughts and didn't even hear her answer.  
“Sorry, I was lost in my contemplation,” he admitted, though she simply rolled her eyes at him, not believing a word a it.  
“I said -” she started, stretching out the last syllable and making sure she had his complete attention before talking again. “-that I'm from Chicago, but I'm staying at my cousin's place for a while. I'm a nurse, I volunteered to be sent over to tend to the harmed soldiers, but they sent me home after six months. I- I got hurt when a shrapnel exploded near the infirmary.”  
Bucky felt a twitch in his chest, as if his heart was doing some odd dance or something. His previous amazement for the girl turned into something of a completely different nature: respect, admiration. He felt closer to her all of a sudden, not like a soldier in remission who flirted with a pretty girl in a bar because that's what he used to do before being send to hell and what else was he supposed to do anyway? After seeing the reality of war – after living it – what could he do with his life? Her own gaze softened imperceptibly, as though she knew exactly what was going through his mind.  
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ment-”  
“Where did you get hurt?” He cut off her needless apology.  
She blinked a couple times, seemingly losing a bit of her confidence and natural joyfulness.  
“My leg,” she said. He nodded in understanding and empathy, but then she proceeded to lift up the hem of her dress, pulling it up to her knee, and he saw it. It was flesh colored, but he saw it. “See?” She said, her finger mindlessly following the outlines of her prosthesis. “I got used to it after a while. I can dance again now!” She declared, proudly. “I asked to be deployed again but they refused. So now I'm here, trying to figure out what to do with my life when really, all I want to do it be useful where I'm most needed.” Bucky hadn't uttered a word since he lifted up her skirt, so she looked up, hoping to decipher in his eyes what he couldn't muster up to say. He stared intently at her leg, his lips sealed close. Feeling exposed under his stare, she let go of the material and the dress naturally fell back in place, hiding her prosthesis from prying eyes. “Not as pretty as you thought, ugh?” She said, dejectedly.   
For a while now, she felt like half a person, and she momentarily regretted showing him her leg, because talking to him brought her relief and careless joy. Again, she grabbed her beer and drank a sip of it, just to give him time to process and speak up before it became too awkward and she decided to run away. After slamming down her bottle on the bar, she felt something tepid replace the coldness of her beer. His hand was calloused and warm. It was so much bigger than hers that her own hand seemed to disappear in his grip.   
“Even prettier,” Bucky eventually said, gently rubbing the back of her hand to warm her up.   
She ripped her hand out of his grip.  
“This was a mistake, I shouldn't have come,” she declared, already standing up. Bucky frowned and stood up as well, confused beyond words. “I'm going home now, it was nice talking to you,” she said in this cold, detached manner that took him aback.  
“No, wait! What did I do? Is it something sai-”  
“No, it's my fault,” she said, shaking her head all the while making her way through the crowd of happy, drunk people, as Bucky followed her.  
“I don't understand, (Y/N), please wait!” He finally managed to catch up and put his hand on her shoulder when they both reached the entry door, stopping because it was raining. She seemed to weigh the pros and cons and finally walked out, under the pouring rain.  
“Let me walk you home at least!” He argued, still walking in her steps. This time they were alone, they voices muffled by the rain hitting the pavement. “(Y/N), it's a downpour out there, you'll get sick!”  
“I can handle myself, thank you very much!” She piratically barked back at him. When she realized how rude she had been, she stopped in her track and turned around. Her hair clung to her head and a little bit of her make was running down her cheeks. “I'm sorry, Bucky. You're a good man, go back to your pretty ladies and your beer. I can walk myself home.”  
“You can't just let me hanging like that, (Y/N),” he said, hands in his pockets to shield them from the wind. “Tell me what's going on. What made you change your mind?”  
For a split second, she hesitated, and that was enough for Bucky. He wouldn't let her walk away. He wanted to know her, to see her again. He hadn't even heard her laugh yet.  
“Please, (Y/N),” he begged her. He could feel the rain soaking him to the bone, causing a shiver to run down his spine, and the urge to protect her from the cold overwhelmed him.   
“I simply wanted a little flirt to forget my life for a second, I didn't imagine you'd be nice or even this persistent,” she confessed. “I shouldn't have talked about the war, I-” her voice broke in the middle of her sentence. “I'm sorry. It's just all I seem to be able to talk about these days.”  
“I know,” he said, walking closer to her to make the gap between them disappear. “I know,” he repeated. “I understand. It's okay.”  
“It's not. It's over for me, and I have to move on, but I can't. I have ghost pains in my leg and I barely sleep at night, and going to bars and talking to strangers is my way to get a break, to deal with everything. But ti's far from okay. Now like I said, turn around and forget about me,” she began to turn on her heels, ready to walk away again.  
“Not a chance in the world,” Bucky ran after her, quickly catching up now that they weren't stuck in a crowd, and since her fake leg was significantly slowing her down. “If you think you're the only one who's a mess inside, you're wrong. I'm not letting you walk away on this excuse (Y/N). I want to see you again. I want to get to know you.”  
She snickered, “Oh really? How many girls have to said that to?”  
“None! Just- please!” He stopped her in her track, grabbing her wrist to make her look at him. Her eyes were closed when she turned around, as if the very act of looking at him was unbearable. “Tell me what to do! I'll do anything! Anything!”  
“Can't you simply be like all the others?” She pleaded, mostly to herself. “I can't tell you what to do, Bucky. I don't even know what to do with myself.”  
“I get it,” he said, suddenly pulling her in to hold her in her arms. He just wanted to keep her warm, and dry, even if he had to be the one in the cold, pouring rain. He felt like he would die if he didn't hold her. “I get it. We can figure it out together. Just- please, give me a chance, (Y/N).”  
She didn't answer, but stayed in his arms, snuggled up against his chest, her face hidden to his eyes.   
“You say that I'm a heartthrob but I really am not – not anymore. I'm the shadow of myself since I got back, and tonight I was only at this bar because Steve brought me there. Don't make me go back. I'm invisible there, you're the only one who saw me.”  
He felt her shake in his grip and for a moment he thought she was crying but when she looked up, she was laughing.   
“I'm stealing you from Captain America,” she chuckled through unshed tears. She wipes her eyes with the palm of her hand and when she dropped it back down, she grabbed his hand, lacing her wet fingers with his, trickles of water running down their joined hands. “Is there really nothing I can say that would make you leave me behind?”  
“Try me,” Bucky challenged you, mostly because he wanted to hear that laugh of hers once more.   
“Alright, alright,” she whispered to herself. “I- I live two blocks down th-”  
“I'll walk you,” he said, not even letting you finish. He was too eager to wait one more second.   
“Alright,” she repeated, this time looking Bucky straight in the eyes, her own eyes sparking with gratitude and mischief. “Make it worth my while then,” she smiled despite her shivering body and the biting wind, despite feeling like a puddle both literally and figuratively. “Stay with me tonight.”

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know if this is good or bad, I just wrote it from the top of my head because I had this idea and couldn't get it out of my mind before writing it down. I didn't search anything about PTSD or anything else for that matter, so excuse me for possible inaccuracy. Hope you still enjoyed it!


End file.
